


Day 1 and Already Fucked Up

by Ahrro



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Aggression, Control, Daddy Kink, Dominance, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Light Sadism, Narcissism, Slow Burn, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 19:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20314867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahrro/pseuds/Ahrro
Summary: Your first actual introduction with Negan doesn't go the way you'd hoped, but about how you realistically should have expected. Until you really mess up under the pressure of trying to keep yourself under control.





	Day 1 and Already Fucked Up

“Well hey there princess,” he drawled. A smirk curved over his lips as he watched you.

  
“Princess?” you parroted the name questioningly. You could feel your brows quirked in annoyance despite trying to hide any reaction.

  
His eyes crinkled as his smile spread to a grin. But it wasn’t mirthful. Despite the wrinkling around his eyes, imitating actual amusement, the smile somehow didn’t actually reach his eyes. You’re not sure how you noticed this. But you could see it clearly for a mock smile that was baring his teeth at you in a warning kind of way.

“Princess, doll, baby, girl, kid, kitten, bitch, stupid,” he tapered off with the names, eyes hunted your face for a reaction. “I got a lot of names I’m keen to call you. So yeah. _Princess_.”

  
His timbre dropped as his volume rose, making you feel like retreating in on yourself. But you stood your ground. He was still baring his teeth at you.

  
“This really how you wanna have our first introduction? Trying to stand up to me?” he questioned.

  
“I…” you started, your feathers ruffled and your tone immediately indignant. But you caught yourself and opted for calm honesty. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just in a bad mood and uncomfortable.”

  
“I don’t really care what you are, you wanna keep raising an attitude towards me you better be ready to face the consequences, baby doll.” His grin had dropped down to just a leering smirk, still studying your face for any hint that you were about to step out of line again.

  
He scoffed out a laugh and turned to plop down on the leather couch, reclining back in it comfortably and watches you. When you remained standing, not looking directly at him outside of watching his initial movements, he quirked an eyebrow at you. Lips pulled back to an actually amused smile, he addressed you. “You wanna do it sitting or standing?”

  
You weren’t really sure how that question from out of his lips immediately had no other possibility than sexual implications. How ridiculous.

  
“Do what?” you managed to not stammer, and looked at him.

  
Grin still unwavering, he reclined his head just slightly and poked his tongue between his teeth as he looked you head to toe. “Set the fucking rules down of course. Sit.” Despite his earlier question, telling you to sit had been an order. So you looked away from him and walked towards him, taking the seat across from him.

  
You felt awkward, small, shy, and under scrutiny. Your hands fidgeted, not knowing what to do with themselves. You chanced a glance at his face before looking away. “Look at me,” he ordered, tone even and unreadable.

  
You looked up, meeting his eyes. His face was serious, ungiving. You felt your nerves prickle with the need to look away and drop the challenge it felt like you were putting up. You couldn’t help your eyes nervously darting between his, as if trying to read his stare. Or maybe your eyes were just moving in morse code screaming “WHAT DO YOU WANT”.

  
Finally he laughed and tipped his head back, looking down at you. “Well at least you listen.”

  
He reclined back again, getting comfy, body spread out as if laying claim to the space of the room. You had taken to staring at his chest, eyes pretty unmoving from the spot while silence stretched again. But you didn’t have the nerves to break it. You knew he was watching you. This entire time he’s done nothing but overtly watch you. Studying you. Probably working out how best to keep you tame and compliant as he gauged all of your reactions.

  
A low sound vibrates from his chest before he huffs a short laugh and shakes his head. Surprised, you look back up to his face uncertainly, fingers in your lap tangled around themselves. Your eyes widened a fraction of an inch in horror, realizing that it may have looked like you had been staring over him, rather than just at a pinpoint location without realizing it. That it may have looked like you had your eyes focused on his crotch, after he made the spot prominently in view from lying himself out on the couch cushions.

  
You looked down and away again, trying to hide your facial reaction from him as best you could. But you were certain he’d seen the full display of emotions. And you could not stop the heat searing up your neck and cheeks now. You really hoped your blush wasn’t as embarrassingly obvious as it felt it was.

  
“So kitten, this is how it’s gonna go,” he started, and you slowly looked back up at him.

“We’re going to work through the guidelines, rules, and expectations over time. But the one thing that we’re going to abso-fucking-lutely put into place now, is that you don’t fucking break my rules or do dumb shit that goes against what you’re supposed to be doing. If you do, you bet your sweet ass that I’m going to tan it. And every infraction you make you’re going to be in a world of punishment.” He let the words hang. “But follow my simple rules and get your fucking act back together, and you’ll be rewarded.”

  
That somehow shocked you. You didn’t think that Negan of all people went around rewarding people. Negan’s rewards were just… not getting punished. So of course that's all he meant.

  
“You gotta whoooole lotta shit you gotta get to. If you keep working and doin’ shit you’re s’posed to, then you keep me a happy man. And I ain’t such a bad guy to be around when I’m kept happy.” His tone, even and assuring, suddenly turned dark and threatening when he continued, as his eyes steeled on you. “But you upset me and you’re gonna find out very quickly just how unpleasant I can make your life. Understand?”

  
Your stomach coiled with nerves and… fear? Probably fear. He knew how to tick whatever emotion box he wanted on you it seemed. And that terrified you more than anything. “Yes sir,” you said with a submissive drop of your eyes.

  
You caught the sound of an appreciative hum and the upturn of a pleased smile as he regarded you. “And you may absolutely call me _sir_ whenever you fucking like.”

  
You had no freaking idea how such a simple sentence had been turned into pure sensuality. But it had. Your blush burned harder as the fear roiled around with a clench inside you. Every interaction you were going to have with this man was going to be on incredibly thin ice. You had no idea how to handle that. And you had no idea whether his comment was meant to reveal what he really felt about your little title for him, or if he was merely pushing your buttons because some-fucking-how he already knew exactly what paralyzed you and made you confused, uncomfortable, and uncertain. And that much you _knew_ he enjoyed sadistically.

  
So somehow that translated to your brain that it needed to blurt out a breathy “Y-Yessir.”

  
He laughed out suddenly, having really tickled his amusement, as your cheeks and ears felt like they were on fire and you could not bring yourself to look anywhere near him. So you took a deep breath and sighed, closing your eyes tightly, head nodded down towards your lap. His laughter tapered off into a few jovial chuckles and you were pretty sure he had a shit-eating smile on his face.

  
_Could you just redo the last few minutes completely? Please?_

  
“It’s late in the day, and you still got a lot of shit you gotta catch up on. So we don’t have time to really ingrain those rules and expectations right now—much as I’d love to do a bunch of _grunt_ work with you right now.”

  
Had you really fueled this? Is this really your fault that now he’s really taken to making innuendos that pluck your strings however he wants? You’re pretty sure it’s all your fault with that little ‘sir’ brain spew. God you fucking knew he’d clamp on to your discomfort! You knew it! You’d prepped yourself for this very conversation. Yet even as you’re consciously aware of your actions and how they’ll look to him, you can’t seem to act any other way.

  
“So you’re going to just get to it and make daddy proud. Then later on we can reconvene and get that shit set up. We clear?”

  
Your eyes finally flashed open at him and you were pretty sure you looked hella annoyed. But you neutralized your face. He was observing you with a wide smile, tongue tucked into his cheek, while he rocked one of his his knees back and forth in place in anticipation, now that the cat had baited the mouse. Waiting. Watching. Learning. You knew he was hoping he’d pissed you off enough to fly your mouth and give him an excuse to really cement his warnings. You _knew_ he was hoping… _betting_ on the daddy comment to set you off.

  
And it did…nearly. Coming from anyone’s mouth that sort of comment would disgust you. So why did heat flood your stomach and dance little butterflies everywhere? Oh you also felt the anger. You really seethed the moment you realized what he said. But rather than just simple, easy to understand anger, you were dealing with a dizzying, sickening churning of anger and arousal. _What the fuck?_

  
Clenching your jaw, you tried to mute out your anger and… and that other thing you didn’t want to acknowledge. “Yes,” you answered him simply.

  
_Fucking seriously? Daddy? Who the fuck did he think he was?!_

  
His eyes sparkled in amusement and warning, tongue running over his teeth bared at you in a warning. “Yes what?”

  
Your brain short circuited a moment, not sure what he was hunting for. You had said yes, stating that you understood, right? Until you finally made the connection. He was really doing that?

  
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Really?” you tried to hide the ire in your voice, you really did.

  
“Yeah, see I think that’s just the level of respect I deserve, don’chu darlin’? And I really loved hearing you say it so prettily, so I think that’s going to have to be the new standard.” Still watching you like a hawk. Still observing. Still calculating.

  
_First the daddy comment and now this? What the hell was wrong with this man? Narcissistic bastard_.

  
You numbed your mind and forced yourself to meet his eyes levelly. You’d comply just to stop giving him further sadistic enjoyment by ending your first little introduction. You hissed in a breath before just about sighing out your exasperated response.

  
…

It shouldn't have been such a big deal to just say "Yes Sir", but reaction made it seem...dirty and _wrong_.

  
The deadened silence around you made you start to wonder if he was still going to find an excuse to waste your time just to push your buttons more, despite your final compliance to his stupid request. The air started to feel static and thick. You were still looking forward at him, even though you had been basically looking through him rather than at him. It had been easier to hiss out the words that way.

  
But when you refocused on his actual face again, all traces of his amusement had faded completely away. Head no longer tipped back in a casual dominance, his face was angled straight at yours. His body had gone rigid, fingers clenched onto the leather upholstery and his eyes had darkened as he pierced you with their intensity. You couldn’t even make out the color of his eyes anymore.

  
Pure, raw panic surged to life inside of you. What the hell happened? What changed? You played his little game so why twas he looking like he was about to tackle you to the ground or choke you out? You were short-circuiting again, but this time much worse. It felt like your actual life was in danger right now and you’d be ripped apart by the man in front of you if you couldn’t figure out how you managed to fuck up and work out how to diffuse whatever the hell you did.

  
You replayed the last minute, looking for the slip up. You must not have noticed some warning or hint he gave you. Until you replayed the very words that slipped off of your tongue when you admitted defeat and submission. Then the only thing you could hear in your thoughts was the ringing of your own voice that looped your fuck-up over and over again: “Yes, _daddy_.”

  
He had started it with the daddy thing! Why should he be so pissed about you throwing it back at him? And yet you still felt beyond mortified and embarrassed. And it had been your own goddamned doing! Your heart hammered deafeningly inside your chest.

  
“I… oh my god, I—”

  
“You ought to leave,” he said, interrupting your stumbling attempt to apologize. His voice had dropped to sound like gravel. Deep and level. Raw and commanding.

  
You wanted to continue to explain, but his tone made the words die on your lips before they even came forth, replaced with just the tiniest sound of a whimper. You were too scared shitless to even be concerned that he heard such a pathetic noise, so you just stood and turned to leave. You heard the ragged hiss of a breath being taken in from behind you, but you didn’t even spare a glance over your shoulder. You just booked it out of there.

  
As you practically ran back to your room from his office, you tried to make sense of what just happened. Tried to figure out why your slip-up had apparently kicked his puppy.

  
Unless that boiling, heated tension hadn’t been barely contained rage at all… Because what if it had been…? You stopped yourself at that. There was no way. There’s no way those two words could have caused that intense of a reaction like that if it had pushed some weird kink buttons of his. It wasn’t logical for a huge number of reasons.

  
But you did know that Negan had anger and temper issues. So you were certain that you had just stepped through that thin ice accidentally, despite the hypocrisy of the situation. So why hadn’t he bashed your brains in, or mutilate you like everyone else?  
Probably because you’re new. And a woman. He was giving you a really really big first pass, and probably your only one.

  
Yeah that was it. You fucked up and pissed him off to hell…

…Right?


End file.
